A Little Bit of Love
by Xelbie
Summary: AU! Mini-series where Emma Swan lives in an apartment below Killian Jones in the same complex. Captain Swan fluff from tumblr.
1. Riff

**[A/N]: **_A small drabble from Tumblr. (I can imagine both Emma and Killian being in their early to mid twenties at this point). Enjoy!_

* * *

_Riff_

_Seriously? _Emma sat up in her bed as the sound of an acoustic guitar played from above her. Each note was louder than the last, building up to the point where all of the strings were strummed in unison, causing the walls to vibrate and her head to pound. With a heavy sigh and one last glare shot towards the ceiling, she ripped off her sheets and opened the door to her room like a woman on a mission.

While walking up the stairs, she was going through what she was going to say, in her mind. _Can you please try and keep your music down? It's really hard to sleep with you making a lot of noise._ She didn't want it to sound too snappish, but that was the third time that week that she had been awoken by his loud guitar playing and quite frankly, she didn't care how she sounded, or what she looked like. Hell, she was in her white tank top and yoga shorts, she didn't give a damn.

Walking up to his door, she quickly rapped on wood before she crossed her arms tightly. From outside the apartment she could still hear the noisy strumming and for a brief moment she thought she caught a small bit of singing. To be honest, the music wasn't half bad. In fact, it would probably be something she would pay to listen to. However, it was preventing her from sleeping, and that was a problem.

Emma knocked on the surface again, and this time, the riff faltered and stopped. The blonde waited patiently until the door opened slowly, revealing a very handsome man, who couldn't have been much older than she was, with a guitar slung across his chest. He then pushed it behind him, causing it to hang low along his back.

And the word, _Damn_, was all she could think.

After two years of living there, she hadn't had any problems with her other neighbors (which could also be because she didn't talk to the other residents in her apartment complex), yet she had never seen this man before. Her eyes involuntarily raked over his every feature, her eyes dropping lower and lower along with her jaw. Emma quickly regained her composure, _stop embarrassing yourself_. "Hi, um, listen, I live right below you, and I wanted to ask if you could tone down your music a little…"

His bright blue eyes sparkled with realization, "Oh, sorry, lass," _God, he has an accent._"For the last couple days I've been practicing for a charity performance with my boys." Great. Now she sounded like a complete asshole.

"Oh, well, I didn't mean that you had to stop completely," she tried to say.

"Don't worry. I'll keep it down," he winked at her.

He freaking_ winked_ at her.

Emma's eyebrows rose slightly, _well now_. "Thanks, I appreciate it."

Before she could move away, he held out his hand, "Killian Jones. I just moved in two weeks ago, so I haven't really had enough time to get _acquainted_ with the lovely neighbors."

She looked to him, then down to his hand, then back to him. _So that's how he wanted it to be. _Taking his outstretched hand, she couldn't stop the small smirk that formed on her lips, "Emma Swan. And don't worry; I haven't really made myself familiar with anyone here, either."

He grinned, "Perhaps we could change that."

Her mouth dropped open slightly, once again, but all she did was chuckle, "We'll see about that. Goodnight," She then turned to leave and before she could start down the stairs, she heard him call out.

"Goodnight, love."

_Stop it_, she scolded herself as her heartbeat sped up. Emma took a deep breath as she got into her apartment and leaned on the door and smiled slightly. She sighed and walked to her room, moving slowly as she got under her covers again. The smile stayed on her face as she began to drift off to the sound of a soft, beautiful melody being strummed from above her.


	2. Lights

**[A/N]: **_Another part of the mini-series. Fluffy, fluff, fluff right here, guys._

* * *

_Lights_

Emma loved her apartment, but sometimes it got on her nerves how close it was to the football stadium that was located two blocks from her place. Sure, it was exciting and she could basically walk up to the roof of the building and watch the game from there, but there were some huge disadvantages. One, being the fact that there was almost _always_ a firework show after every winning game.

For the first couple of months that she lived in the Storybrooke apartments, did she enjoy them? Yes. She would go up to the roof after almost every game just to watch them. Did she enjoy them now? No. Especially when she was trying to sleep. After getting Killian, from above her to be quiet, Emma thought she might actually be able to get some sleep.

She should have known.

It was around ten when the fireworks started going off and Emma started her ritual. She grabbed both of her pillows and covered both sides of her head with them. The loud crackles from the explosions were then muffled enough to where she could try and tune out the excess noises. She closed her eyes and snuggled into her pillows a bit more. Then, right when she was about to drift off into a peaceful slumber, she heard very loud stomps coming from Killian's apartment from above. _What the hell?_

Pulling her head out of her pillow barricade, she sat up on her forearms, staring at her ceiling curiously. Two seconds passed and the stomps started again, this time followed by a very muffled, but loud shout, "SWAN!"

The blonde's jaw dropped. Was he _really_ yelling to her at 10 PM through his floor while stomping? The loud bangs on her ceiling continued and she groaned. She heard Killian call out, "SWAN! GET UP HERE, YOU HAVE TO SEE SOMETHING!" The way he said it got her attention.

What if he really needed her? She could always go back to bed and pretend she didn't hear anything, but then she would feel guilty. _His tone sounded a bit urgent_, Emma thought, slightly concerned. She would just go check to see what he needed, that's all.

Emma quickly grabbed a jacket from her closet and headed to Killian's room. When she got there, all she did was knock on the door once before it swung open, revealing a grinning Killian Jones. "I was starting to think you didn't hear me, love. I would have had to break out the electric guitar and the amplifier."

She folded her arms, "I don't know if you've realized this, but there _are_ other people who live here. You could have just called me."

One of his eyebrows rose, "You would give me your phone number?" He asked with a smirk.

"God, no. Judging by your insistent yelling, I don't think I'm ready for you to start spamming my inbox yet. No, there's a residence phone in the hallway, it's connected to everyone's installed apartment phones," she explained.

"Damn," he replied, but the smirk did not leave his face. There was another loud _boom_ from outside and she could almost see his eyes light up. "Come in, I think they're close to ending."

Emma hesitated for a moment before stepping into the man's apartment. She stood completely still for a few moments and then turned back to Killian. Damn her racing heartbeat; it just wouldn't stop hammering in her chest. Clearing her throat, she inquired, "What's almost ending?"

She watched as his smile grew wider, "The fireworks, of course."

"Really?" She sighed, "You woke me up and forced me out of my bed to watch the fireworks that they have almost every other week?"

"Oh, don't be like that, Swan. I hardly ever see these beauties, pardon me for getting a little excited," She huffed and he reasoned hopefully, "It's almost over, let's just watch the rest." Killian motioned towards his window, where the view of the entire city was lit up with the flashing lights from the fireworks. Every few seconds a soft glow would fill the room and brighten everything. She had to say, she sort of missed watching that…

"Fine, but I have work on Mondays, Jones, this is a one time thing. No more waking me up this late, or at least _call_," Emma said exasperatedly.

He motioned to the large couch that he had placed in front of his window and said, "As you wish." The two of them settled themselves onto the cushions, watching the rockets shoot up before combusting into a variety of vibrant and abstract colors. By the time they were over, Emma's cheeks hurt from smiling so much. After all that time she had forgotten how beautiful the lights were. When she voiced her opinion out-loud, Killian gave her a cheekily little, "Told you so, lass. Wasn't so bad, now was it?"

"Oh, I don't know. Next time, the host should provide snacks," Emma joked.

"So there will be a next time, then?"

"I…" Her mouth was left slightly agape at his words. _Damn_, he knew just the right things to say to get her completely frazzled. She gulped, then said, "We'll see about that."

After that, Emma left Killian's apartment with butterflies fluttering around in her stomach. _Get a grip, _she told herself, but the feeling didn't stop until she was in her apartment again. The smoke from the explosions still lingered in the air, she noticed, as she took a look outside her glass window. _Maybe the fireworks weren't so bad after all_, Emma mused.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the shrill sound of her apartment phone blaring. Emma quickly rushed over to it and answered it to silence the noise. "Hello?"

"_Just making sure this works_," she heard Killian's boisterous voice on the other line. "_G'night, love_."

The blonde rolled her eyes, "Goodnight, Jones," she then hung up and shut off the lights in her kitchen before entering her bedroom and closing the door with a quiet click.

And every time after that, as if it were some silent arrangement, Killian and Emma always watched the fireworks together.


	3. Thankful

**[A/N]: **_Happy late Thanksgiving~ _

* * *

_Thankful_

Emma sat awkwardly at the large dinner table that occupied six people. Everyone around her was chatting casually while waiting for the turkey to finish cooking. Different plates and bowls were littered across the table full of mashed potatoes, salad, cranberry sauce, and some things she had never even eaten before. It was a nostalgic scene; she hadn't had any of this since she was young— No. She was not going to get all mopey and sentimental here. She took a deep breath and focused back on the conversation of music.

It had all started that morning when Killian rudely woke her up on her day off. They had a short, brief conversation (and by conversation, she meant that he did all the talking and hung up without actually listening to what she had to say) on the phone and now she was in the home of Mary Margret Nolan, a kind woman who just so happened to live with her husband a couple floors below her, celebrating Thanksgiving.

A small, barely audible sigh escaped her lips as she took another sip of her wine. Red, not white. White was too dry for her. Setting her glass back down, she felt the heat of someone's gaze upon her. Glancing up, she met the eyes of Killian, who was staring at her with a light smile. A smile so sincere, Emma couldn't help but to smile back.

Their connection was suddenly severed when Ruby, another friendly neighbor, spoke to her. "So,_Emma_," the red-streaked hair woman started, gaining her attention. "How long have you and Killian been dating?"

The blonde's eyes widened and she nearly chocked on some wine she was drinking. While coughing, she felt a hand pat her on the back supportively. She turned and saw David, Mary Margret's husband, giving her a warm smile. Emma returned the smile with a nod of thanks before answering Ruby. "Um, actually, no. Jones and I aren't dating."

"Yet," Killian chimed in, winking at the woman, whose grin only grew wider. Emma rolled her eyes and shot him a look that said, _really?_

A loud beep came from the kitchen and David stood, giving his wife a peck on the cheek before going to retrieve the main course. God, it smelled good.

"Turkey time," Victor, Ruby's boyfriend and Killian's band mate, sang. Then he turned to Killian, "About time you got back up on your feet, Jones. She's a keeper," He gestured to her before he took a swig of his beer while placing an arm around Ruby's shoulders.

"_Victor_," Mary Margret scolded lightly.

"Wha?" He tried to take on a look of false innocence while taking another large gulp of his fourth Bud Light.

David came in carrying a big pan and in it sat the turkey. The smell wafted around in the air, making her mouth water a bit. Everyone sat patiently as the blonde man started to carve the meat, placing a good amount of everyone's plate before serving himself. Bowls and plates were passed around the table and Emma made sure to get a little bit of everything. Sure, she looked like a pig, but there was no way she was going to ignore all the delicious looking food. Once the dishes were filled, they all said grace and Mary Margret announced, "It may be old-fashioned, but we should all say something we're thankful for."

Emma felt something sink inside of her. It wasn't fear, _no_, what was it? Disappointment? The fact that she had no idea what to say was what really hit her. She tried to think. What was she supposed to say? She was grateful for surviving? For living? She was only living for herself, for her own lonely existence. Was that really something she should be thankful for?

The blonde, in her haze, hadn't noticed that everyone had already had their say in the conversation and now Killian was speaking. "I'm thankful for what I have and the new experiences I have had recently," at that moment, Emma could have sworn that he was staring at her. His eyes met hers until the meaningful words were then brushed away as he ended, "And of course, I'm thankful for rum."

"Here, here," Victor slurred and raised his beer with a smirk.

"What about you, Ems?" Ruby asked, already using a nickname for her.

"Um…" She started. Emma looked around at the five faces around her, giving her their full attention. Yet, she couldn't say a word.

Luckily, she didn't have to.

Victor shot up from his seat and ran towards the bathroom. A few seconds later, the sound of the man vomiting reached their ears and Ruby winced visibly, sending an apologetic smile to everyone before rising and going after her boyfriend. Mary Margret also followed, taking a glass of water and a towel from the kitchen with her.

"The git could never hold his liquor very well…" Jones shook his head slightly and the sound of retching filled the apartment again. Emma, Killian, and David all exchanged glances before pushing their plates away from them, for any appetite any of them had was gone.

* * *

After an hour or so had passed, Victor elected not to eat and decided to rest up on the sofa while everyone else ate what they could, which didn't end up being very much after that night's events.

"Thanks for the meal, Mary Margret. You too, David," Emma was saying her good-byes near the door, getting ready to leave. "I really enjoyed tonight."

"It's no problem, Emma, you're always welcomed here," David said, giving her a small hug, which surprised her, to say the least, causing her to return the embrace a bit awkwardly.

Mary Margret did the same, but she was a bit more prepared then. "We should get together more often! Don't be a stranger, okay?"

"I'll do my best," Emma replied with a tiny grin. Her eyes then flickered to Killian, who was now walking her way.

He stood beside her when he then said, "I think I'm going to head out, too."

"What? C'mon you barely drank!" Victor mumbled, sitting up abruptly from the couch, causing him to moan and Ruby to sigh, exasperatedly, but still amused by her boyfriend's antics.

"A good thing, too," Killian chuckled, "considering what happened to you."

Mary Margret turned back to them with a smile, "You two come by again soon, and no excuses. It's not like you have to go very far."

"Sure thing. Thanks again," Emma waved to them while exiting the apartment with Jones by her side, hands in his pockets. When the door was shut, she turned to him. "You didn't have to leave with me, you know. I'm pretty sure I can walk up a few flight of stairs by myself."

He simply shrugged, "If I stayed there Victor would probably insist I have many shots of alcohol and I don't fancy hugging the toilet tomorrow morning. Besides, what kind of gentleman would I be if I didn't walk you home? I was the one who escorted you here, after all."

"Escorted?" She scoffed. "You mean _forced_?"

He smirked and cheekily pointed out, "You still came, love." All she did was glance at him before the two of them began to climb the steps to their apartments quietly. They both walked in silence and Emma could feel his gaze flicker towards her occasionally, but she didn't meet it.

It wasn't that Emma didn't like Killian (because she did, but she would never admit that, especially not to _him_). The truth was, she enjoyed spending time with him. It was just that she wasn't _used_ to someone like him in her life. It was all new to her, being pulled around, trying new things. She wasn't familiar with hanging out or having friendly conversations. Emma Swan never really had a friend.

Or at least one who stayed by her side.

In fact, she didn't even remember that it was Thanksgiving. To her, it was just another Thursday. She had not gone to work for four days now, so she hadn't been able to hear about it from anyone else. Which is why when Killian called her that day, telling her to go with him to have Thanksgiving dinner, even if she wanted to reply, she would not have been able to. It was so foreign to her, but he had reintroduced it to her; the bright side of having friends and company.

He sighed as they both stopped in front of Emma's door. "Here we are. I'm glad I was able to escort the princess home safely," he joked, bending down into a slight mock bow.

She snorted, "Yeah, you're a real hero; thanks a lot, Prince Charming." Killian was about to turn away when she called out, "Really. Thanks for taking me with you, Jones."

"So, are you going to be more enthusiastic the next time I take you somewhere?" He inquired.

"Not likely," she chuckled.

"I didn't think so," he smirked. "You know… Victor interrupted an important moment. You never got to answer… What are you thankful for, Swan?"

Emma felt a small, sincere smile form on her lips. She met his eyes and the two of them stared at each other. There was no noise, no sound besides the loud, steady beat of her heart. Then, they both looked away. Killian headed up the stairs and Emma entered her apartment, wondering if he understood her unspoken answer.

_You._


End file.
